by Steph Poe
Putting his fork down and wiping his mouth with a napkin, Cal picks up his glass and finishes his wine.
"That was good, Lake. You're an excellent cook." I blush at his compliment.
"Thanks. I learned from my mom. She was a great cook. I don't cook much though. It's hard to cook for one person. I usually end up with take out or eat a bowl of cereal for dinner." Followed by a pint of ice cream when I'm depressed about being alone.
He's looking at me with that intense gaze, like he's searching for something. I feel flustered, as I always do when I feel his eyes on me. I pick up my wineglass and finish it off, hoping to chase away some of my nerves.
"Would you like some more wine?" I stand up when he nods and I grab the bottle off of the counter. I fill both of our glasses. I guess this is the time when we start the inevitable talk. I set the bottle down and prepare to sit when he stands up from his chair. He walks around the table to me and grabs my hand, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Dance with me?" he asks, but it's more of a command than a question. He leads me over to the kitchen where there's more open space. I know there's so much we need to talk about, but the feel of his hand around mine is wonderful. When he wraps his other arm around my waist and pulls me close, I'm in heaven. I rest my head against his chest and can hear his heart pounding against my ear. My arm wraps around his shoulder and he begins to lead us.
We sway in small circles to the slow music. The singer has a deep voice and the words are romantic. I smile against Cal's chest thinking that asking me to dance was definitely doing something right. I feel so much comfort in his arms. I've missed being here so much. I had started to think of him as my safe place and despite what happened, I still feel incredibly content in his arms. I think even him lying to me was only him trying to protect me. That doesn't make it okay, but it does make me feel a little better.
When the song ends, he pulls back and runs his hand across my cheek before tucking my hair behind my ear. He smiles sweetly at me.
"Thanks for the dance."
My breath catches in my throat and the urge to kiss him overwhelms me. I lick my lower lip before biting my teeth into it. His eyes are staring at my lips and his mouth is open slightly and I know he wants to kiss me, too. Right when I think he's going to move in, he pulls back and I can't help the groan of disappointment that escapes my lips.
"I really need to talk to you, baby. If we keep standing here like this, I'm gonna want to take you right here in this kitchen. I don't think you'd be too happy with me if we didn't get things talked out first." I squeeze my thighs together because I feel wetness already in my panties just from him saying those words. As much as I would love to have him take me right here on my kitchen floor where we just shared the sweetest dance, I gulp and take a small step away from him. He turns me on so much. I can't even just enjoy a sweet, tender moment without sex coming into the equation.
He's right, we need to talk about things. Maybe kitchen sex later? I shake my head at the thought. What is it about this man that makes me so needy? I need to stay focused on him and his words, not his tight ass that I'm currently ogling as he walks over to the table to grab our wine glasses. He turns back around to face me.
"Let's go sit down and talk." He cocks his head in the direction of the sofa. I nod my head and follow him. He sets our glasses down on the coffee table.
I sit on the end of the sofa and curl my legs under me. My body is pointed towards him, ready to listen. He sits down right next to me and his arm rests on the back of the sofa behind me. Tubbs is still content, lying on his pillow, chewing on the bone Cal brought for him.
I stare at Cal, giving him my full attention. He doesn't realize it yet, but my heart is lying right here between us, waiting for him to take it back. I just hope to God that he doesn't break it.
"First of all, I'm an idiot. I thought that keeping the truth from you was for your own good. I wanted to protect you." He looks ashamed.
"That wasn't your decision to make, Cal. I know you wanted to protect me, but you should have trusted me with the truth. Lying is a big deal for me."
"I know, and I was wrong. I was just so afraid of losing you. Obviously the lie didn't help me because I ended up losing you anyway." He runs his hands through his hair and grabs the back of his neck.
"I did some pretty messed up things that I'm not proud of, but I can't be ashamed of who I was in college. Making those mistakes made me the kind of man I am today. The man that you lo—, the man here with you now."
He sighs and looks down at his hand resting on his thigh for a moment. Then he runs his hand through his hair again, making it messy as it falls across his forehead. He looks up at me with a serious look in his eyes.
"I have no desire to ever do anything like that again, with you or anyone else. The thought of you with another man... I get enraged with jealousy at the thought. I wanna be the only man to touch you, the only man who gets to make you scream. I want to be the only one to make love to you."
I'm relieved because there is no way in hell that I would be open to that. I may be interested in doing some kinky things in the bedroom, but that will never include anyone but me and Cal.
I look up into his eyes. "If you ever lie to me again, we're done. I've been through a lot in my life and there's really nothing I can't handle. But I won't accept someone I trust lying to me. Especially, someone I love."
He reaches over and takes both of my hands in his.
"I'll never lie to you again. I can't lose you, Lake." He leans in and gently presses his lips to mine. I melt into the kiss, relishing the touch of his velvety soft lips.
Forgiving him is the right thing to do. It wouldn't be fair to punish him for his past. I haven't known him for long, but I do know in my heart that he's a different man than he was back then. There's no way he would ever hurt me like Chris did.
Chapter 23
The next week, I have my final interview and photo-shoot for Indy Magazine. I'm filled with excitement and nerves. I never envisioned anything like this happening to me.
When I started Lake Maxwell Events, my goal was to make enough money to keep doing what I loved. I never imagined that a magazine, albeit local, would want to feature my business on their cover. There are many small businesses in Indianapolis owned by women that could have been chosen. This exposure has the potential to bring me more clients.
My business is already growing and this may be just what I need to get to the next level. This also means getting busier. More clients mean more events, which means more manpower needed.
I need to finish the final paperwork to make Ashton my partner. I really need her help to get through this. We'll need to hire at least two more people. Brynna will make a great assistant, though I still haven't told her yet. We haven't formally announced Ashton becoming partner either. Maybe we can hire a receptionist and get an intern. I am trying not to be overwhelmed by all that I have on my plate.
I get into my car and drive into the city. A song comes on the radio and I recognize it as one of my mom's favorites. My mom loved country music, especially Reba. My nose starts tingling listening to the lyrics, which is always a precursor to tears.
I miss her so much. I know she would be so proud of how far I've come. She always wanted this for me. She worked hard her whole life in the same factory, not ever quite making enough money. I know she struggled, but she never showed it. She wanted me to have everything. Somehow, she managed to save some money to help me start my business and live out my dream. She was a truly selfless human being and I have always aspired to be just like her.
The past three years have been tough without her. There were plenty of times I've felt alone. I've had my best friend, but even with Ashton being there, something's been missing.
I really hope that I've found the missing piece of me in Cal. I want so much to share my dreams with someone. I want someone to be there when things are going great and when they are bad. As much as I hate to admit it to myself, I'm tired of being lonely. I'm t
ired of being alone.
I've let myself be effectively ruined by what happened to me. Ashton was right. I've got to stop letting it control my future.
For awhile now, I've thought about talking to someone about what happened, like a therapist. Right now, thinking about my mom and Cal, I think I'm finally ready. I'm ready to talk about what happened to me. I'm ready to let go of the blame. I've blamed myself for what happened for too long and I'm ready to heal.
*****
While I'm waiting for Anna to arrive for our final interview, I search Google for local therapists. I've honestly never even known anyone who has talked to a shrink and that's why I've turned to my favorite search engine to help me find one. There are so many in my area. They all appear to have different things that they specialize in.
I find a Dr. Jansen who specializes in depression, anxiety, and past traumatic experiences. Her picture shows a woman who looks to be maybe late thirties, or early forties with dark brown hair, styled in a chin-length bob. What draws me to her is her warm smile and bright blue eyes. She looks friendly, like someone I could talk to.
I can't help but feel nervous just looking at her picture. Am I really going to do this? Am I really ready to open myself up to a stranger? I'm ready to move on and put my past behind me, but now that I'm ready, I find myself a little afraid. I can't help the thoughts that always cross my mind. Will she think it was my fault? Will she make me shoulder some of the blame like I already am? Will she think it was all my fault?
I start to tear up and put my face in my hands. This has been affecting me for too long. I've been blaming myself for three years and I can't seem to let it go, despite the fact that I've gotten really good at hiding my shame. I raise my head and wipe the few tears that have escaped from my eyes. I move the mouse over the area that says 'schedule an appointment' and fill out the information. I want to move on from my past and start the next chapter of my life with Cal. In order to do that, I need to heal.
I hear a small knock at my door and look up to see Ash poking her head in.
"Anna and her team are here. Are you ready for your close up, Ms. Maxwell?" She frames her face with her hands in a "vogue" pose.
I smile at her, shaking my head. "I think so. How do I look?" I stand up and smooth my black pencil skirt and straighten the skinny belt around my waist. Ashton comes around my desk and smoothes out the collar of my light blue blouse, then reaches up to fix my hair.
"Oh, you have a little smudge of mascara." She points under my eye. I turn away from her to look in the mirror on my wall.
"You're going to go to therapy?" I turn back around to see her looking at my laptop.
"Yeah, I am. I'm ready to move on from...what happened."
"Really? I'm so proud of you. You've held it in for so many years. I can't even imagine how hard that's been. This will be really good for you." She grabs my hands in hers.
"I think so too. Now that Cal and I are back to normal, I'm ready. I want to put it behind me."
She pulls me in for a quick hug.
"I'm so happy for you." She releases me and starts to walk to the door.
"I'll be out in just a minute." I grab some light pink lip gloss out of my purse and apply some before walking out.
The entry way has been rearranged with one large light on a tall stand sitting where the coffee table was. There's a man I don't recognize with a big camera, obviously the photographer. He's talking with Ashton and looking at the area where the chairs are set up for the shoot. Anna is standing there talking with another woman, both are dressed impeccably. I make my way over to them.
"Lake, it's so good to see you again." Anna leans in and gives me an air kiss on the cheek. Her perfume is a fragrant, floral, scent but it's so strong that it stings my nostrils. I smile politely at her when she pulls back away from me. I'm still not sure how I feel about this woman who may, or may not, have had sex with my man, especially after assessing her attire, which is a fitted black dress that shows a little too much cleavage for a weekday morning.
"This is my assistant, Carissa." I am relieved when she doesn't try to do the weird, air kiss thing and instead offers me her hand. I take it. She is petite with straight, honey blonde hair that hangs just past her shoulders. I admire her dress, which is made of a deep burgundy tweed that falls just past her knees. The sleeves are long and the neckline is scooped right over her collarbone.
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Maxwell. Your office is lovely." She has a small, quiet voice. She seems to be a little shy but she smiles warmly at me.
"Thank you very much, and please call me Lake."
Anna walks over to the photographer and whispers something to him before they walk over to me.
"Lake, this is our photographer, Griffin. He has done all of our cover shoots for the past five years."
Griffin has long, wavy blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. He is slightly taller than me and appears very thin, but fit. His eyes are an unusual bright green. He offers me his hand and I take it, surprised at the size of it. For a smaller, thin man he sure has large hands. He wears a tie-dyed t-shirt, green cargo pants, and black skater-type shoes. He looks like he stepped straight out of a nineties grunge rock video. He smells like apples, which is an unusual scent for a man to have. When he smiles at me, I see slightly crooked, off-white teeth. One of his upper teeth has a large chip out of it, but it suits him.
"Nice to meet ya, Lake. Totally dig your name." I thank him and return his smile.
"Where do you want me?" I ask him. He leads me over to one of the wingback chairs.
Anna directs him as he begins snapping several photos. I'm instructed to smile, with teeth, then no teeth, then no smile. Turn to this side, turn to that side, cross your legs, don't cross your legs. After about five minutes, I'm over it. I don't know how models do it. My cheeks are starting to shake from trying to smile so much. I decide to think about Cal. Images of him, shirtless in my bed, bring an easy smile to my face and make me feel much more relaxed.
After what feels like an eternity, but was more than likely about fifteen minutes, Griffin tells Anna he has the shots he needs. Ashton walks over to me as I stand up from the chair.
"You looked so good. I cannot wait to see you on the cover of Indy Magazine! This is so incredible! Remember when we were just getting started? We had that one wedding..."
"Yes, the Arnolds'. Oh my God, it was such a disaster! I thought there was no way anyone would hire me after that." One of my very first weddings was outside in a park. The setup was beautiful with light brown wooden chairs surrounding an archway covered in lush green vines that was to be the altar for the bride and groom. I had ordered all different types of wildflowers, per the bride's request. We used them in the archway and along the chairs that were next to the aisle. We also scattered them along the sides of the aisle.
"There must have been a bee hive already nearby, because how else would so many bees be in the area?" She's giggling and I know she's remembering how, as soon as the bride made her way down the aisle and the ceremony began, about thirty bees started flying around the guests, drawn to the colorful flowers.
I shake my head. "Almost all of the guests jumped out of their seats trying to get away from the bees. And as if that wasn't bad enough, the bride got stung and she was allergic. I mean, what are the chances?" I remember almost falling apart because I had blamed myself for the incident. Like somehow as a wedding planner, I should have prevented the bees from ruining the day.
"Luckily someone had an EpiPen." We both laugh at the awful memory. "We've come so far." She wraps her arms around me. "I'm so happy for you, Lake. You're living your dream and kicking ass at it. And now you're going to be a cover girl? That is so fetch!" She does her best Gretchen Wieners impression and I crack up laughing.
"I'm just glad I have you by my side to keep me entertained with your awful impressions." I pull away from her and see Anna observing us. She has an annoyed expression on her face, which she tries to cover up quickly with a sm
ile when I catch her eye. Apparently she doesn't appreciate 'Mean Girls' like we do.
I walk over to her and invite her into my office to finish the interview. Brynna offers to make us coffee.
I take a seat in one of the chairs in front of my desk and gesture for Anna to sit in the other chair. I turn mine so it's facing hers. She crosses her legs and leans forward in the chair. She has an iPad in her hands, ready to take notes.
"All right, Lake. Last time we talked, you were telling me how you got started in the business, about your staff, and how you do it all. Can you tell me now why you do what you do?"
I turn my head towards the picture on my desk. It brings a somber smile to my face thinking of her.
"My mother. She always told me to follow my dreams. She always believed I could be successful if I followed my heart and did what I loved." I turn back to face Anna. "Plus I love seeing the joy on people's faces at the events we plan. The fact that I get to be a part of some of the happiest times of their lives makes me feel good."
Anna uses her stylus to take notes on her iPad before looking at me again.
"And what advice would you give young women looking to start a new business?"
"Be prepared to work nonstop in the beginning if you want to be successful. Don't give up when it gets hard, —and it will get hard. But if you sincerely love what you do, keep doing it. Stay positive and stay focused. Build a great team that is willing to work just as hard as you do and treat them as equals."
"That is fantastic advice." She continues her note taking. I'm actually surprised that she doesn't have her assistant in here taking notes for her. Maybe Carissa is helping the photographer?
"Thank you for the follow up interview. I think I have everything I need to complete the article. This is going to be so great for you. Our magazine is rated number one in central Indiana," she says, like the magazine is hers alone. She stands up and brushes her tremendously long black hair over her shoulder. "By the way, the office looks great. A big improvement from last time I was here." She flashes me an obviously fake smile and I feel a little offended. Was my office that shitty before the remodel?
